


Smart Mouth

by wicked3659



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:05:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8001304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/pseuds/wicked3659
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mirage has a smart mouth for a reason but it's a lonely way to be, until somebody sees past his act.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smart Mouth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eerian_sadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/gifts).



> For eerian_sadow's birthday. Have a wonderful day :3

 

It all started with a punch. If Mirage was being honest, it actually started with his too snarky for his own good, mouth. Sometimes though, he just couldn’t help himself. Some mechs just rubbed him the wrong way, it wasn’t like he invited their anger. Okay, well maybe he did but not because he actually thought the things he snarkily threw at them. Couldn’t they recognise when a mech was just being defensive?

Lying on a berth, staring up at the garishly orange medbay ceiling, Mirage concluded that they couldn’t. He felt somewhat bad but the twins had been annoying him during his downtime by being raucous and obnoxious. He didn’t get enough downtime as it was, being special ops meant he was quite often sent on unexpected recon missions. Mirage couldn’t remember exactly what it was he had said but it had been along the lines of referencing an obsession with a nice finish and a good wax by comparing Sunstreaker to a pleasurebot desperate for credits. Mirage secretly thought Sunstreaker looked quite fetching and he respected a mech that took pride in his appearance. Though, he would never tell the golden mech that. They had simply been too loud and too in their own world to care about the disturbance they were making. They probably hadn’t even realised Mirage had been there, quietly in the corner of the rec room, reading a romance novel - a guilty pleasure of his - when they’d started getting louder. He had asked them to be quiet which resulted in a snide remark from Sunstreaker and to the twins’ credits, they had quietened down but Mirage had been unable to let the comment go and when Sunstreaker had mentioned needing new wax, he had taken aim and fired. One thing had led to another and he quietly mused that he was lucky not to be a blue and white smear on the rec room floor by the time the twins had finished. He was a little smug that they were now in the brig but he did feel bad that things had gotten way out of hand, all thanks to his pride and vorns old defence mechanism. A masked face and a glowing visor filled his field of vision and pulled him out of his rumination.

“Ooh, that looks nasty,” First Aid stated simply.

“If it looked good, I doubt I would have to suffer inane platitudes of medics, is Ratchet not available?” Mirage replied without missing a beat, internally wincing. First Aid hadn’t done anything wrong to him, this was merely his way of protecting himself and hiding his exceedingly dented pride.

First Aid continued cheerfully, unabashed by Mirage’s sour and haughty response. “I’m afraid he’s off duty this evening, now hold still, I’m going to have to block the sensors beneath your face plates to fix some of this damage. It might tingle a little but if you feel any pain, just tell me to stop straight away.”

“Don’t you mean if I feel more pain?” the noble shot back with an edge of impatience to his tone.

“Well, yes,” First Aid answered, his visor dimming slightly as his field rippled with sympathy. “Though I believe that was the twins’ intention after you insulted one of them. I’m surprised they didn’t do more damage to be honest, so I guess you can be grateful for that,” he chatted casually.

Mirage’s face felt itchy and uncomfortable as First Aid worked and then it went numb, which felt inexplicably weirder. If he could frown at the medic for his less than appreciated remarks, he would have, as it was he could no longer move any part of his face, so he resorted to letting his irritation flare in his field.

Unexpectedly, First Aid patted his arm and nodded. “I know you probably didn’t mean it but they can be pains in the aft and insulting them probably felt good, even if it wasn’t the smartest idea you’ve ever had,” his visor shone down at Mirage brightly, his field flaring with well meaning humour and understanding. “I’m glad that Ironhide and Trailbreaker were there to stop them before it got worse. You probably feel bad enough as it is for saying it anyway, right?”

Mirage’s optics brightened in surprise as First Aid talked at him. The medic undoubtedly knew that he couldn’t respond but continued to chat as he worked on repairing the micro fractures and dents that Sunstreaker’s fist had pummelled into his face and helm. Despite the chatter, which usually irritated him, Mirage was surprised by the lack of judgement and unexpected empathy directed towards him, in the medic’s words and field. It was almost as though he understood. He knew that wasn’t possible though, nobody ever understood, not even when he’d let them in closer, opened up to them, so he had simply stopped trying. To hear First Aid’s words, even in spite of his snarky and uncalled for replies to the mech, made his spark feel somewhat lighter and for the briefest time, not quite so lonely. How he wished he could respond at that moment, if only to say thankyou to the young medic.

As it was, First Aid worked quickly despite his one sided conversation and it wasn’t long before he was re-activating the sensors in Mirage’s face. “There you go, that wasn’t so bad now was it?” he tilted his helm in a way, that made Mirage believe he was smiling at him.

“No, I dare say it wasn’t,” he answered quietly.

Humming, First Aid moved to examine the rest of Mirage’s battered frame. Mirage watched as he ran his hands about an inch above his frame, scanning each injury and cataloguing it, before beginning repairs. The concentration and diligence in the medic’s work, Mirage respected, yet he had never seriously regarded the young mech highly. He had believed that to be good at anything required vorns of experience that First Aid, having been born as an adult from Vector Sigma, simply did not have. However, watching the medic work expertly over his plating, Mirage began to change his opinions.   
“Okay, there is some internal damage as well as quite a bit of surface damage. You took quite a beating. I’m going to have to put you into stasis to fix you up. It’ll be over before you know it,” First Aid explained gently. “Try not to worry, I’ll document everything so you can look it over when you wake, I know you’re quite particular about knowing the details,” he added considerately.

“Why… how do you know that?” Mirage asked with surprise.

First Aid chuckled softly. “It’s my duty to know the needs of my patients. Mental as well as physical and that is for every mech on this base, including you, whether you like it or not,” he added with faint amusement.

“But Ratchet doesn’t go to such lengths… I usually have to hack my medical file,” he admitted somewhat apologetically.

“Ah well, Ratchet has been doing this a long time and I guess he doesn’t see that stuff as important anymore? He does keep telling me not to get too invested or not to coddle patients because they’ll just end up expecting it and being ungrateful afts,” First Aid sighed but there was affection in his field. “I have no doubt that if I had been doing his job for as long as he has and had been through what he and all of you have, then I would be cynical too but I guess I have time on my side.”

“How are you so understanding of mechs’ flaws?” Mirage asked his tone laced with suspicion and incredulity.

Laughing brightly, First Aid shrugged. “I already told you, it’s my job. Now rest, it’ll be over soon.”

Mirage said no more as the berth was activated and he was pulled into a medical stasis. The last thought that drifted through his processor was that it was definitely more than just doing his job and he couldn’t help but feel awe for the mech who was younger than an adult human and yet some how wiser and kinder than the eldest of them. Perhaps time really was on his side.

****

Mirage watched the interactions impassively, he normally paid no attention to the events happening around him if he was off duty unless mechs were being too loud, but this one held some interest for him.

First Aid was chatting with Bumblebee when Blades and Hot Spot had walked over and usurped his conversation. Mirage could tell that once Bumblebee had left to go on duty, First Aid looked distinctly uncomfortable by how close Blades was sitting and by how both of his gestalt members seemed to be lecturing him about something. From their body language Mirage could tell they weren’t threatening but it was obvious that First Aid was unhappy. Silently he got up and procured a cube of energon from the dispenser before making his way to First Aid’s table. “May I sit?”

The three mechs’ optics snapped up to him in surprise and neither of them said anything immediately.

Mirage took the non-response as approval and sat down. “I do hope I’m not interrupting?”

“No--” First Aid started.

“--Well actually, we were having a private conversation,” Blades cut in with a scowl. “Between Gestalt brothers, you understand.”

Mirage nonchalantly sipped his cube and gazed at Blades, “I do not.” he answered succinctly.

Hot Spot shifted uncomfortably and shared a look with Blades. “We should probably um… go,” he declared. “We’ll talk later ‘Aid, okay?”  
Blades nodded, “Yeah, ‘Aid, we’ll talk where we can’t be rudely interrupted.”

First Aid slumped his shoulders and nodded. “Sure, whatever,” he replied.

Mirage watched them leave before pinning First Aid with a knowing look. “Is there a problem?”

First Aid looked up and met Mirage’s optics with a bright visor. “No! I mean, not really,” he vented a sigh. “It’s nothing, really, don’t worry.”

“I am not concerned, but if there’s anything I can do to help?” Mirage offered quietly.

“I… that’s very kind,” First Aid smiled behind his mask, despite Mirage being unable to see it and instead let the gratitude and appreciation flare in his field. “It’s really nothing that requires help, however. My brothers, they just think that wanting your own space is weird and that we should do everything together.”

Canting his helm curiously, Mirage huffed. “Having your own space has a certain amount of benefits. I cherish the time alone I get to the point where I will be willingly be beaten by our resident hellions to preserve it,” he added dryly.

Visor brightening, First Aid chuckled at Mirage’s comment. He wasn’t as stuck up as others made him out to be from what he could tell. “I had no idea it was something so precious,” he quipped, lightly teasing the noble.

Mirage was pleasantly surprised at the faint tease and ripple of amusement he felt and he actually smiled a little. “On this base, there is little that is more valuable,” he answered honestly. “What about having your own space do your brothers disapprove of?”

First Aid’s amusement faded and the mech frowned. “I put in a request for my own room.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad.”

“You’d think I’d refused to ever combine with them again,” First Aid explained dejectedly. “They have not taken it well, said I’m snubbing them, that I’m making them feel unwanted when it’s nothing like that. I love them they’re my brothers but I like peace and quiet, I like to read and work late hours to help Ratchet out. I like having my own friends, Primus, I like having friends period!”

Mirage listened sympathetically and nodded with understanding. “It is nothing different than what many of us on this base strive to achieve. I am lucky being an officer to have my own quarters which survived the crash.”

“Yeah, being the newest members of the crew, Wheeljack had to fashion rooms for us out of the debris and they’re far from perfect,” he sighed softly. “Maybe I’m being selfish? There is so little room as it is.”

“Then what made you request?”

“Ratchet told me that Wheeljack was moving into his room,” First Aid smiled at that thought. “It would mean some reshuffling but he said if I put in my request early enough then I had a good chance of getting my own room in the barracks as I’m a medic, but when my brothers found out, well… you saw what happened.”

“Hmm, has your request been approved?” Mirage asked curiously.

“Not yet, but I think it was with Prowl last time I checked.”

Mirage nodded thoughtfully and took a sip from his cube.

“Anyway, did you want to speak to me? You look like you’ve recovered from your injuries well,” First Aid spoke up, gazing at Mirage expectantly.

“I ah… no, well yes,” Mirage started before ducking his helm and smiling awkwardly. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?” First Aid was surprised. “What for?”

“For treating me--”

“--Mirage, really it’s just my duty.”

The noble shook his helm and regarded First Aid earnestly. “You did more than just your duty and I appreciate it and the lack of judgement,” he explained quietly. “I had best be going, however, I have a mission to prepare for.”

At the sudden turn in the conversation, First Aid’s visor flickered and he nodded uncertainly. “Oh, alright, thanks…”

Mirage reached over without warning and placed his hand over First Aid’s, prompting the younger mech to meet his intense gaze. “Do not let them convince you that you cannot have a little something that is just yours.”

With that he stood and swept out of the rec room, leaving First Aid staring after him in bewilderment.

****

First Aid gleefully unpacked his box and looked around the small yet cosy space to find somewhere to put his stack of book files. Choosing the small shelf on the wall above his berth, the medic smiled. Finally a place he could call his own. His brothers were still unhappy about the situation but First Aid could not be happier. It had a single berth, a small desk and a chair and a monitor to access Teletraan. He knew others weren’t happy with the sparse, small barrack rooms but it was everything he needed and more. He could hardly believe his fortune when Prowl had finally approved his request. The Commander had told him personally when he’d stopped by the medbay. It had been there that First Aid had learned that a reference on his file had suaded Prowl into approving his request. First Aid had immediately gone to thank Ratchet who had had no idea about the situation. The young medic couldn’t think who else would have done that but in the end he got his room and he was more than grateful.

A ping at his door drew his attention. A thrill of excitement went through him before he went to answer it. Having his own door. He was easily pleased. Grinning he palmed the release and his visor brightened in surprise to find Mirage standing on the other side. “Hi, Mirage, how did you know which room was mine, I haven’t ah told anyone yet.”

Mirage smirked at First Aid. “Spy,” he stated simply. “May I come in?”

“Oh yes!” First Aid stepped back letting the noble into his room. He suddenly felt extremely self conscious. This was his space, this reflected him on so many levels. “It’s ah… not much,” he declared, rubbing the back of his helm.

“It doesn’t have to be if it makes you happy,” Mirage stated, then held out an ornate looking bottle. “For you.”

Accepting the bottle slowly, First Aid gazed at the label. “This is high grade, from the towers,” he whispered in awe.

Mirage bowed his helm in acknowledgement. “A tradition to welcome someone to their new home, a gift.”

“This is, I… thank you,” First Aid said humbly, clutching the crystal bottle to his chest.   
“You are more than welcome,” the noble replied with a small smile. “How are your brothers taking the move?”

First Aid gave him a shrug and a sigh through his vents. “They’ll just have to get over it.”

Mirage’s smile widened. “That they will,” he paused and for a klik First Aid saw a flash of insecurity flicker across Mirage’s face. “I should be going.”

“You don’t have to, I mean, we could have a cube?” he held up the bottle hopefully.

“I would like that,” Mirage answered after a moment’s hesitation.

Grabbing two cubes, First Aid immediately opened the bottle and half filled both cubes, offering one to Mirage. “This is a really thoughtful gift.”

“I wanted to be sure that you felt at home in your new space, I find personal privacy and peace so important in this war,” Mirage explained softly as he sipped at the high grade. “Mm, it held its flavour after all these vorns.”

First Aid opened his mask and took a sip. “This is really good, nothing like the high grade available on ship.”

“Yes, well, I am not entirely certain where Sideswipe brews that stuff, if it can still even be called energon so I would not drink too much of it,” he stated with a smirk.

First Aid chuckled. “Yeah it has quite a kick to it too, which I found out the hard way. Being on the receiving end of one of Ratchet’s lectures was definitely not a high point for me.”

Mirage pursed his lip components. “I doubt it is for anyone, unless they are a masochist,” he chuckled. “He is quite fond of you however, so I am certain he was just worried.”

First Aid smiled at that and gazed up at Mirage. He wondered why the noble didn’t seem to have many friends, why he kept himself so isolated, it couldn’t just be that he was in ops, it never stopped Jazz or Bumblebee. He then remembered their conversation in the rec room. Apart from Ratchet and his brothers, Mirage had been the only other mech on base - other than Prowl - to know of his request and he wondered. Could it be? “Prowl said I apparently got a glowing reference on my request. I couldn’t believe it, I thought it was Ratchet but he had no idea,” the medic babbled cheerfully. “I mean what a nice thing to do, maybe it was one of my brothers, maybe they felt bad, but it was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Is that so?” Mirage replied simply, taking another sip. “You have a profound impact on those around you, First Aid. It comes with being a medic.”

Tilting his helm at Mirage with a knowing smile, he hummed thoughtfully. “Even when I’m just doing my job?”

“Especially then,” Mirage concluded.

First Aid turned and place his cube on the desk. “Well that’s funny because you are the only other person I told,” he looked back to find Mirage looking for once in his life, guilty. His smile widened and he stepped closer to the noble, who suddenly appeared very unsure and frowned at him. “Why would you, of all mechs, do something so nice for me?” he asked softly. “Everyone thinks you’re too proud, too, as they say, up your own aft to even notice a mech like me.”

“What they say has merit,” Mirage answered, looking down at his cube.

“You have been nothing but nice to me, ever since the medbay and I know you left that reference for me, why would you do that, if you weren’t in fact a considerate, thoughtful mech?”

Mirage huffed somewhat embarrassed and stepped back. “I have been called many things--”

“--But you hide that, don’t you?” First Aid interrupted, his visor glowing intently at Mirage. “You don’t let anyone see that you actually care, that you don’t mean those things you say.”

“I-- I have learned that being too open is unwise,” Mirage whispered hesitantly.

“Then why me?” First Aid questioned, stepping into Mirage’s space, gazing up at him, unafraid, non-judgemental, simply curious and honest.

“You were the first in many vorns not to judge me, not to blame me, even after I had judged and subsequently insulted you, I wanted to make it right and perhaps see if…” he paused with a frown.

“See if it wasn’t just a fluke?” First Aid offered with a warm smile. He reached out and placed his hands over Mirage’s holding his cube. “If it helps,” he ducked his helm shyly. “I think you’re beautiful inside and out and I’m really glad you feel like you’d like to open up to me, honoured in fact and I can’t thank you enough for helping me get my own space, it means more to me than you know and I’d really like to thank you properly.”

“You have already done enough,” Mirage frowned as the mech gently took his cube and moved to place it beside his own on the desk, before approaching him once more.

“I insist,” First Aid replied warmly. He took hold of Mirage’s hands and gently tugged the taller mech down so he could place the shyest of kisses to his mouth.

Mirage gasped and his optics flickered with surprise as he stepped back and stared at the medic. “Why…?”

“You deserve to be happy too,” the medic answered softly. “If I can be in any way part of creating that happiness then I am going to do everything in my power to keep creating it.”

Mirage was dumbfounded and took a tentative step forward. “Your duty?”

“It’s so much more than that.”

Intakes hitched, Mirage curled an arm about the smaller mech and drew him closer, his optics studying that glowing visor. His field brushed against First Aid’s and he melted a little at how open, genuine and honest the mech was. Leaning in, he hesitated only for a moment before pressing their lips together in a sweet, searching kiss.

Perhaps, just perhaps, he too had time on his side.

 


End file.
